


A Talk With Another You

by daisyisawriter91



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Timelines, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, F/M, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: In his grief induced bender, Sam sees the shade of another him, grieving a similar relationship, in a similar way. Perhaps there's a reason they're seeing one another, after all.
Relationships: Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 20





	A Talk With Another You

Misery was an emotion he rarely expressed around other people. He certainly took the time to work through it, properly.  
But how could Sam ever be expected to work through this properly? How could he even prepare for this?

The world was gone. Bobby, Donna, Jody, Claire, Kaia, Patience, Garth, Adam, _Eileen._

Everyone. Simply faded away in a single minute.  
Only Dean, Jack, and himself remained.   
The world seemed so much bigger when you walked it alone.

They hadn’t even been allowed a dog. Chuck had to take that away, too.

His brother’s solution to everything seemed to be the only one he could think of. Mild alcoholism was the least of their problems, at any rate.

His glass was drained rather easily, a repeated motion he was getting used to. The burn in his throat had lessened to a mere ache.

The bunker was empty. His phone’s clock said it was three in the morning. Did time even matter anymore?  
He already knew the answer.  
It didn’t.

His eyes still burned from hours of shed tears. Tears over everyone they’d lost, yes. But the loss of Eileen cut deeper than he would have thought.  
It was like losing Jess all over again. Yet somehow, even worse.

Another pour. Another drain. A coma sounded rather appealing.

Sam ran a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes.   
It was all too damn much.

The soft sounds of muffled crying reached his ears, drawing him ever so slightly out of his stupor.

He looked up, meeting the eyes of someone that shook him to his very core.  
 _Himself._

Another version of him, slightly translucent, sat across from him at the table. He didn’t look too far off from his current version, in different clothes, and, most notably, a wedding band.  
Tears openly streamed down his face. He had an entire bottle of whiskey in his hand that he took sporadic drinks from.

Some type of tattoo spread across his arms. With a start, Sam realized what his other self had marks of on his body.  
Angel wings. 

Angel wings were burnt onto his arms. If Sam looked at his other self, he could see the exact outlines of ripped feathers. 

Other Sam roughly swiped his hand across his face in a futile attempt to wipe away the endless flow of tears.  
He took a long drink from the bottle, completely draining it. When he slammed it back on the table, it shattered. Glass shards dug into his hand.  
Sam startled.

“Um. Are you okay?” He couldn’t help but ask.  
If he was going to start hallucinating again, the least he could do was check on his hallucinations.

Other Sam held up the broken half of his bottle as a makeshift weapon, his eyes wild. His expression softened into one of confusion when he set eyes on Sam.

“Am I dreaming?” Other Sam asked, confused. His voice was weak.  
“Either that, or I am.” Sam replied. Very little emotion was left in his voice. He didn’t have the energy to inject sympathy into his words.

Other Sam dropped the broken bottle onto the floor, haphazardly. Sam could hear the shattering sound as clearly as if he’d dropped it.

“I lost him. Dammit, _I lost him._ ” Other Sam agonized. “I held him in my arms.”  
He bared his scarred arms for Sam to view.

“Who did you lose?” Maybe he could bond with his hallucination over shared pain. It would be interesting to see who his psyche came up with that he lost.

The Other Sam gave a broken sob as he stared down at his new branding.  
“Gabriel. I lost _Gabriel_.”

Now, of all the answers Sam had been expecting, it hadn’t been that one. But Other Sam clearly wasn’t done with his anguished spiel, so he kept his mouth decidedly shut.

“I should’ve known better. A Winchester, getting married? It never lasts long.”  
“Wait a minute, you married Gabriel?” 

Other Sam, seemingly jolted out of his doldrums for a moment, blinked at him.  
“You didn’t?” He replied.  
“No. The person I love is a woman. A hunter. Eileen. And she...she’s gone.”  
“What happened to her?”  
“It’s a long story.”  
“The hell else do I have to look forward to? I lost my entire future.”

Sam sighed, pouring himself another drink. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” He settled on.  
Other Sam gave a bitter smile, looking down at his bloodied hand.

“It was so, _so_ stupid. He shouldn’t have died when he did. Only four Archangel blades exist in the entire world, and a fucking _demon _got his hands on Raphael’s. I admit, Gabe screwed him over. But scamming him outta some money wasn’t worth _murder_. I didn’t...I didn’t deserve to have him taken from me.”__

__For whatever odd reason, Sam wanted to reach out and pat his other self’s back. But he had to content himself with keeping a sympathetic face._ _

__“And the Empty isn’t willing to give him back?” Sam asked. _Ever the problem solver_ , he heard a voice in his head scold. Whose voice it was, he couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was his own._ _

__Other Sam frowned, broken out of his grief for a moment._ _

__“The Empty?” he questioned, clearly not understanding what Sam was trying to tell him.  
“Yeah, the afterlife for angels and demons.”_ _

__Other Sam looked like a bomb had just been dropped on him; his eyes blown wide, his face stricken.  
“I...why didn’t I think of that? Why didn’t I even think about an afterlife for angels?” A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “That...that means I can bring him back. I can bring him back!”_ _

__Other Sam stood, suddenly, pushing his chair back. He curled his fingers in his hair, looking close to pulling it out entirely.  
_“I can bring him back!”_ _ _

__

__With that final note fading into the air, the other version of himself vanished, leaving no sign that he’d ever been there._ _

__

__Blinking, still not fully certain of what had just happened, Sam rubbed at his eyes._ _

__

__The fervor in his eyes. The hope in his voice. The tentative joy in his features. He could bring his beloved back.  
Why should Sam be any different?_ _

__

__Sam stood, much calmer than his counterpart, and pushed his chair in. He screwed the bottle closed and tucked it away, quietly._ _

__

__He had some work to do.  
It couldn’t end like this. _ _

__

__He had a girl to rescue._ _

__


End file.
